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COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



A 
STRICKEN CITY 



By 
SALMON-MACLEAN 




BROADWAY PUBLISHING CO. 
835 BROADWAY, NEW YORK 



U'-'^AWY of CONGRESS ( 
iwu uwwies Reoeived 

OCT 18 «90? 

CoDvneht Entry 

CLASb /K AAC, No. 
COPY b. _ 



H^7 



Copyright, 1907. 

BY 

SALMON MACLEAN. 



All Rights Reserved, 



"Methinks already, from his chymic flame, 
I see a city of more precious mould: 

Rich as the town which gives the Indies name, 
With silver paved, and all divine with gold. 

— Dryden. 



PREFACE. 

As at a gathering, social or otherwise, the 
audience may be astonished at the omission of 
the president's opening address, so some of my 
kind readers and friendly critics may be disap- 
pointed in not seeing a preface; whilst others 
(unfriendly critics, I mean,) may wonder why I 
haven't made a humble apology for putting such 
a poorly executed production into their hands. 
After making the following explanation, how- 
ever, I trust that there will be neither disap- 
pointment on the one hand, nor amazement on 
the other. 

I have always spent my leisure in writing 
verse; but I never wrote with a view to publish- 
ing any of my poems. After having completed 
"'A Stricken City," I thought, as usual, that it 
was fit for jny eyes alone; but others who hap- 
pened to see it, advised me to publish it. I found 
it no easy task to follow that advice. I have, 
however, made this attempt, yet, with some 
amount of reluctance; and as you herein have an 
opportunity to judge for yourself, I leave you 



11 PREFACE 

to form your own opinion of it. With it, as you 
will see, I have published a few others, and I 
trust that after you have read these pieces, you 
will have no cause to regret having spent the 
time in reading them. 

July I, 1907. S-M. 



CONTENTS. 

Page. 

A Stricken City i 

A Photograph 7 

Life's Changes lo 

Parted 12 

Death (or the Sleep of Death) I5 

Winter 18 

A Promise 20 

Genius ^ 21 

The Ocean 22 

On the Beach 27 

Through Life •' 29 



A STRICKEN CITY. 

Dear Kingston! daughter of a queenly isle, 
Whose brow a crown adorns, on which e'er smile 
The richest trophies from those tropic seas, 
And choicest emblems of her emerald leas. 
Our hearts now break with sorrow to behold 
Thee prostrate, mangled, lifeless like of old 
Port Royal, when beneath the blows she knelt, — 
Those murd'rous blows which by the Fates were 

dealt. 
How oft along thy streets my steps had stray 'd, 
And brought me weary, worn to where I laid - 
My frame, a burden, whilst my spirit free 
Maintain'd unequall'd war against ennui! 

Methinks I hear thy coaches constant run, 
A market's din, the schoolboys' noisy fun; 
I hear the notes the steamhorns often play'd 
At morn, at noon, at evening's growing shade : 
I see thine eloquent spires all looking down 
With eyes benign upon thee, fated town; 



2 A Stricken City 

And now before me pass the rural swains, 
W'lth hastening steps along thy sunny lanes: 
I feel the ire of each tropic ray, 
The cooling zephyrs from across the bay, 
The southern doctor from a sky-bound sea. 
The northeast wind which swe])t thy green wall'd 

lea, — 
In that, the fuel of exhaustion lay; 
In these, Cheer's whispers on a summer day: 
Still too, the fragrant scent of many a rose, — 
The wild, the cultured, which the bee once chose, 
Around my memory dances ; but with it 
The past, the present now in sorrow flit: 
Again there lingers on my thirsty tongue. 
That taste delicious of the palm tree's young; 
And Fancy's hand o'er stretching the broad sea 
Plucks tropic fruits, which still do beckon me,^ — 
But Mem'ry's hand had written these. Ah ! now 
Time's monuments are mix'd as by the plough, — 
All levell'd with the sod. Can this be thou? 
The twentieth century had but just begun 
Her seventh annual journey 'round the sun ; 
Her first born fortnight wanted but nine hours 
To quit forever those now des'late bowers 



A Stricken City 3 

At midnight, when sweet sleep would nurse with 

care 
The weary pilgrims of that youthful year; 
When as some chased Amazon subdued 
By Phcebus' darts, the war had not renew'd ; 
But lying, breathing deeply, gasp'd for breath; 
Then at the sight of slow advancing death 
She shook convulsive, rose and fell again: 
So quaked the spot which mark'd where thou 

wast slain — 
The earth shook long, thy homes, Oh Kingston, 

fell ; 
And sounds not human mix'd with human yell. 
The spots which mark'd the kennels of the 
hounds 
That cross'd the ocean plains by leaps and bounds, 
There, where a country's products found them- 
selves 
The temporary inmates of the shelves, 
Where linger'd too a cab with jealous eye 
To vie with cars in courting passers-by, — 
There now a death-trod field its charge conceals, 
And with compulsion mangled forms reveals. 
Oh! sudden, fatal was the change that led 



4 A Stricken City 

The living to the regions of the dead, 
The rich and poor to pastures new and bare, 
And then together left them helpless there! 
Within those rails that bound thy garden 

square, 
Surrounded by a spacious thoroughfare, 
Which dust supplied the restless summer air. 
In that old park whose trees and fonts enjoy'd 
Sweet martial strains by war not then employ'd, 
There, where a hundred sat on Sunday eve, 
And like a hundred looms their tales did weave, 
Where giant trees o'er lawns eternal green 
And lots design'd, made art a forest scene, — 
Thy choicest tropic blossoms bloom no more 
There, where encamp the needy rich and poor. 

Again within that dusty circling track, 
Where sped the rider on the racer's back. 
There, where thy country's colors proudly 

danced 
Upon the winds while passing viceroys glanced, 
And generals, at the lines which belch'd forth 

fire 
At Britain's beck free, not in Britons' hire, 
When back they oft brought laurels from a field 



A Stricken City 5 

Where victors capture and the vanquish'd yield, 
Where chemical meteors did ascend on high 
To add brief beauty to a starry sky, 
Where too a desert summer made the scene 
Whilst flowers, like stars, in spring did spot the 

green, — 
There now a homeless populace lament, 
Sky this one's canopy, and that a tent. 

Now meets mine eyes that stately tower just 

near 
Thy time-worn hippodrome, thou Kingston dear ! 
Within her arms her sons have slept the sleep 
That told a tale of safety — angel's keep, — 
How steadfast did that solitary eye 
Of her good clock e'er watch the southern sky! 
How oft beneath that eye with care they play'd, 
They fondest wielders of the willow blade! 
O ne'er can Chance erase fair Mem'ry's hand, 
Which Fortune kindly guided with her wand. 
As Time dictated fast, for lines, the days : 
(She then did lend my steps her guiding rays.) 
Afar, I see the proud Blue Mountain's head - 
With ashes cover'd, now that thou are dead: 
He sees thee prostrate on that couch beside 



6 A Stricken City 

The bottled waters of the ocean tide. 
The gown of emerald lawn he gaveth thee, 
Is now in blood-stain'd rags; o'er thee I see 
A mantle weaved of smoke and dust and fire. 
Thy tomb would ne'er carved epitaph require; 
Thyself, the epitaph, wouldst fittest be; 
Thy tomb, thyself, will stretch beside the sea; 
For Phcenix-like thou Kingston soon wilt rise 
Again a city fair to mortal eyes, 
And as the feather'd tribes do meet in court 
To greet the new-born Phoenix : so in port 
The ocean hounds, the winds, each coming wave 
Will join to hail thee victor o'er the grave. 



A Stricken City 



A PHOTOGRAPH. 

The background was of darkish gray, 

A screen with fret-work crown'd ; there lay 

Upon the ground a bear, the beast, 

On which sat Beauty (what a feast!) 

The pane forbade a finger's touch; 

For is it ancient Beauty, such 

As 'thiopian chemists kept exempt 

From worm's assault,, and the attempt 

Of Time's revenge on mortal clay. 

When hfeless in the grave it lay? 

Or the conception of a mind 

Own'd by a sculptor? Or the find " 

Of painter's diligence? Or aught 

That breathes now, and remains unsought 

By Beauties' worshippers? O'er that 

Unwrinkled brow, at rest there sat 

A tuft of golden fibres, bent 

Along where once the scissors went. 

Her ears, her cheeks, her shoulders found 



8 A Stricken City 

A crypt beneath the gold locks, bound 
About the forehead with a fine 
Blue ribbon, like a curtain's twine. 
Beneath a Roman nose, a red 
Line mark'd the place, whence freely sped 
Once words nectareal that brought 
Those, who a honey'd recluse sought. . 
What delicate lips ! they seem to say. 
For eyes which look'd so large, that they 
Bestow'd but pity for a love. 
Blest attribute of One above. 
A few steps backwards, but to view 
From crown to sole her form anew, 
Betray'd a smile, which, once conceal'd, 
But now to me her heart reveal'd, 
A mother's heart in breast mature ; 
'Neath, arms bereft of one she bore; 
For there behind, hung from the wall 
An "In Memoriam" with a pall 
With artist's pencil drawn. But no 
Etiolation mars the glow, 
Which mark'd a face that lit earth's waste. 
Like cincture, round her slender waist, 
Or half way, bared arms lay still, 



A Stricken City 

No longer servants of her will. 
Her breast was bare, save from her nape 
There hung a cross, her only rape 
From Vesta's cloister bright ; hung loose 
From curving shoulders fabric, whose 
Translucent texture, brown, reveal'd 
A flowing robe, in vain conceal'd. 



lo A Stricken City 



LIFE'S CHANGES. 

This eve how changed seems nature I 

But that must I believe? 
Just look beside the door-step, 

That green foot-trodden leaf, 
That grafted branch, that seal'd bud. 

Were not there yestereve. 

The grass that paved the pathway, 
The bramble and the thorn 

Which vied to catch the passer, 
Had many a hope forlorn ; 

But they were levell'd, levell'd 
At this day's budding morn. 

The bells that tuned last evening, 
The organ's notes, the pray'r. 

The pious crowds, deserted shops. 
The pastor's pulpit-tear,— 

These are forgot, supplanted; 
By what? See everywhere: 



A Stricken City ii 



A city's buzzing millions, 

And criers of the town, 
The chamber'd gambler, drunkard, 

The cafe's pamper'd clown, 
The sickman's hope, the prisoner's, 

A rector not in gown, — 

These eager chase the finish 
Of toils they'll seek again, 

Toils which make busy nations, 
And will, too, future men. 

They dressing modern methods 
In garbs of future ken. 

This eve will be but yester. 
And modern ancient days; 

This present youth will mellow, 
And bathe in Autumn's rays; 

And these our songs will echo 
Then, as but ancient lays. 



12 A Stricken City 



PARTED. 

*Twas midnight. On the gray shore 

I sat; and as I cast 
My eyes o'er the Atlantic, 

I 'spied a lonely mast. 

But then, my thoughts sought farther 

To spot a distant home 
Beyond these furrow'd waters, 

Within the tropic foam. 

As Phoebus gazed at Cynthia, 

And she at him again, 
She smiled, and smiling shew'd me 

The silver of the main. 

My eyes fix'd on the waters, 

My thoughts dwelt steadfast still 

Within that cozy cottage, 
Upon a shady hill. 



A Stricken City 13 



In fancy's dream, I enter'd 
That same familiar cot; 

And those I left I found asleep. 
But one; lo! he was not. 

A youth, whose soul had hurried 
Across Death's dreaded stream 

Was absent: 'neath a willow. 
He still does sleep and dream. 

But by his side are sleeping 
His mother, sister; they 

Did give him parting kisses, 
And he his loved one, May. 

His tears were rills, detaining 
The parting of his kin ; 

But May's for him were rivers. 
E'en where they did begin. 

Methinks, I hear him speaking, 
And see him by my side; 

Or, is it that my senses 
Deceive and me deride? 



14 A Stricken City 

I censure not the change that 
Has taken from my side 

A friend, and left a shadow 
That whispers to the tide. 

But whilst alone I linger, 

I sorrow o'er the loss, 
While, as the ships the billows, 

My craft life's surges toss. 

A few years more, and ever 

I yet may sit and sing 
Beside him, while his fingers 

Again vibrate the string. 



A Stricken City 15 



DEATH (OR THE SLEEP OF DEATH). 

A monster. Death? weep not my child, 

No monster rules the world ; 
Do pulpits show a monster with 

A battle's flag unfurl'd? 

Death, monster? No! a sleep prolonged. 

No horror 'tis to die; 
Is sleep, sweet sleep, a horror, when 

In bed thy frame doth lie? 

Know'st thou the time when Nature's nurse 

Doth steal thy senses ? Child ! 
Dost thou dread sleep, or welcome sleep, 

When weary from the wild? 

Refresh'd or weary still, when thou 

Behold'st the sun at morn? 
Regrettest thou that kindly sleep 

Repair'd thy senses torn : 



i6 A Stricken City 

Torn by a disappointment sad, 

Then comforted by sighs? 
What cares thee worry when in sleep's 

Kind arms thy body lies ? 

To die, to sleep ; if pain to die, 

Then pain to fall asleep ; 
To sleep, a mortal is to rise ; 

To die, to sleep, sleep, sleep. 

What then dread'st thou? If pain, 

The pain as consequence 
Existeth not ; but 'tis the cause 

Of death that gives th' offence. 

If pain, at death, doth give offence. 

Then death but pain defeats, 
By snatching from pain's thongs the soul, 

Which but to th' heavens fleets. 

To die, to change : the soul but quits 

Its earthly home; awake 
From sleep: the soul returns; awake 

Not: soul its flight doth take. . 



A Stricken City 17 

Sweet sleep? sweet death; dread death? dread 
sleep : 

How plain ! live happy, child ! 
Let not a teacher horrid make 

What is but sweet and mild. 



i8 A Stricken City 



WINTER. 

Quickly stepping with the year, 
Bearded, frowning, worn with care, 

Winter came, 
Breathing icy breath on me, 
Casting white sheets o'er the lea — 

What a shame! 

Birdies, quitting desert lands, 
Saird away in hungry bands 

To my door; 
For their food supplies were lost 
Underneath the snow and frost — 

Winter's floor. 

Naked trees with outstretch'd arms, 
Standing in deserted farms. 

Wept beneath 
Winter's burden white and cold; 
And the stones each had a mould—- 

Brittle sheath. 



A Stricken City 19 

Weary, sad, and weak, the year 
Breathed his last, and then a tear 

Winter shed; 
But he smiled to see the morn, 
When a little babe was born 

To the dead. 

Midnight voices fill'd the air, 
And the birth of a new year 

They proclaimed; 
Then came next old Winter's end. 
Locks all hoary, without friend, 

And ill-famed. 



20 A Stricken City 



A PROMISE. 

The helpless needy asks just aid, 

A promise gets to wear ; 
A blessing gives, if ne'er does fade 

That promise' budding ear. 

Too many a promise worthless is, 
Its giver, Falsehood's page; 

Yet there are wither'd promises, 
Which shrivel with their age. 

As fickle minds (unwish'd, forsooth) 

Expected age may blast: 
So budding hope, in weather'd youth, 

May die; and all's a past. 

Oh ! trust not then a promise, friend ! 

Its giver false may be; 
If honest, just one change may end 

A seeming certainty. 



A Stricken City 21 



GENIUS. 

Thou, mount! that hft'st thy head above 
In conference with a God of love, 
Fit symbol of the genius — man. 
Whose place is fixed, in God's plan, 
Within thy bushy head abide 
Hid founts of cooling streams, which glide 
To thirsty minds in endless tide. 
Blessing and blest, rever'd and grand, 
His name re-echoes through the land ; 
Immortal, for his wit shall flow 
In ceaseless currents here below. 



22 A Stricken City 



THE OCEAN. 

Thou ocean! fountain of the floatmg seas, 
Dread ocean! roar, and fill the tensive shores 
With those sweet strains a prairie is denied. 
There, feather'd songsters and the restless winds 
Do entertain their sylvan guests at will; 
Here, now at ebb, thy gentle ripples sound 
Their whisp'ring notes, while little fishes sport. 
Are not those soften'd strains the music, which, 
At flow, the merry waves but render loud 
And long, with their almighty tenor cords? 
The little spies, the grains of sand, which move 
Obedient to the weakest of thy waves, 
Are ready to betray the trail of him. 
Who treads the borders of thy vast domain. 

How mighty and majestic are those waves 
That monster-like thy troubled breast patrol! 
As when some sinewy giant, choked with rage, 
With eyes like brazen cannons shelter'd by 



A Stricken City 23 

Those dismal brows, cliffs that defy approach, 
Attacks a youth of feeble parts, who yields 
For fear of deadly blows, and e'er ascends 
Obedient to the force of giant arms— 
When absent stubbornness, beseeching wails 
Defeat the threats of storm, and freedom win: 
So oaken barges, steel clad ships outlive 
The anger of thy deaf'ning surges wild. 
The storm abates, and then thy tamed breast 
Doth heave no more with anger : now assuaged, 
Thy waters nurse, with tenderest care, the small 
Frail craft a schoolboy's hand too loves to shape. 
The yacht-nursed newly married couple ride 
Through merry winds that cheer them on their 

way; 
And safe upon thy breast, their honeymoon 
The bride and bridegroom spend— a Ufe's sweet 
morn. 

When from some earthly pinnacle mine eyes 
Survey the fields of snowy foam, when, too. 
On high, I see the sprays from reefs ascend 
And fall in showers upon thy harrow'd breast, 
My thoughts desert me there, and quickly speed 



24 A Stricken City 

To pay due homage to Him, who endow'd 
Thee, Ocean! with such hberty and pow'r — 
To sleep, to rage Hke demons, to destroy 
A fleet in sport, a Holland to annoy. 

For many a day thy pathless way I trod 
With certain steps ; and nightly, on thy breast 
My spirit left its body to its own 
Uncertain fate. O glorious! glorious sight! 
When Phoebe's pale-faced maids did trip the 

light 
Fantastic toe upon thy silv'ry floor. 
In joy for the absence of the shades. 
Once through the curtains of a darksome night, 
A ray did peep at me, it moved on ; 
And hours reluctant brought thy curved breast, 
A hillock, but to hide me from that gaze : 
A distant ship did guide that slowly setting star 
Across that treach'rous wilderness of thine; 
And me, too, safe beneath a similar eye, 
A Cyclops carried not to caves, but o'er. 
'Twas Beauty's child, that scene the lord of day 
Did show the west upon that cloudless morn, 
When slowly, he his golden curtains moved. 



A Stricken City 25 

To say good morning to a waking world. 
His cheerful smile thy bosom glad return'd, 
And heaven join'd the happy earth, as she 
Did laugh in mock of Nox's speedy flight. 
But wise, Nox left to watch the fields she fled 
Her maids, those shadows of each darkening 

form 
That e'er must pass before day's bright-eyed 

lord. 
Gray sea weeds, waters dark and warmer than 
Thy station'd waters, stretch'd for miles before 
My wand'ring eyes for many a creeping hour ; 
But absent foams and stubborn waves betray'd 
The heavy Gulf Stream of an ocean plain. 
Earth then to me was nothing but one field 
Of living water; sky and sea, my ship 
And crew were all the universe contain'd. 
No hills did kiss the distant sky, till days, 
Not hours, brought back approaching emerald 

fields, j 

And made earth, sea and land — not ocean all. 

Blest home of man! where health and free- 
dom meet, 



26 A Stricken City 

Best home on earth thy bosom freely gives 
Far from invading friends, the wiles of foes, 
Earth's gossip and political intrigues. 
Competing trade a thought, and not a form, 
Leaves to thy care its fleets rich and unarm'd. 
Arts, science live; but on thee leave no trace, 
Save, near the shore, the beacon, which must 

keep 
His lonely watch, while weary mortals sleep, 
Save hulkless masts that mark too many a grave, 
Or straying derelicts some ship deserts — 
Save these, no trace doth mark the vain attempt 
To bring thy realm within man's sceptred sway. 



A Stricken City 27 



ON THE BEACH. 

The morning pregnant with bright hopes, 
Breathes thoughts of deeds to be; 

The day wears, and on the gray sand, 
The artists leave to me 

The monuments of their day's toil — 
A hero's bust, fair Beauty's dame — 

Then shades of night conceals the child 
Of a genius born to fame. 

But Nature's tears may leave behind 
Their prints for vanished joy; 

As mischief, envy, others too 
Might mar or e'er destroy 

The toil of hours, patience, skill, 
In one black night, though morn 

Reveals the work of one alone, 
Who toil'd with hopes forlorn 



28 A Stricken City 

The day before. Thus nothing marks 
The Hves of many here sent; 

Whilst fortunate one's work remains 
His faithful monument. 

The site bereft of many a form, 
Which was the child of toil, 

Supplies to future labor space 
That ne'er may know a foil. 

So on, and on, on Time's wrought sand. 

The ages can but claim 
Of monuments few that have stood 

True to immortal fame. 



A Stricken City 29 



THROUGH LIFE. 



Through Hfe what num'rous vistas hail 

Our ever greedy eyes! 
From days when budding, pruning are 

Devoted to our rise, 
Till autumn's prime, till winter's gloom, 

Or till life seeks the skies! 

ii. 

The seminary promises 

Nought of our schoolroom's lore, 
Not wealth of knowledge cuU'd from books 

Does constitute its store ; 
But there a soul is train'd to live 

A life, forevermore. 

iii. 

There God Himself moulds soul and frame. 
Till to the world there goes, 



30 A Stricken City 

Free from his daily task, a child; 

And there in calm repose, 
Preparing for earth's wanderings, 

Its labors, pleasures, throes, 

iv. 

He patient learns. Next schooldays give 
The world a well train'd soul, 

A pupil out on holiday, 

Now free from pole to pole 

To roam, till intermission brings 
The hour for call of roll. 

V. 

If sleep eternal — Nature's nurse — 
Applies soft drugs, and ferries 

Across the stream a promised guest 
To earth's fair fields, and buries 

The studious head on downy rest, 
Then from the world's sure worries 

vi. 

Fate keeps the child the gods will not, 
For love, give up to pine, 



A Stricken City 31 

And, like most mortals, bow beneath 

A load, for which the fine 
Inflicted ends attempts to move 

The anger o' the Divine. 

vii. 

Awake, recess but finds the youth 

A shy one, and unskill'd 
To rough the roughs, who hold the street; 

But soon, bold and self-will'd. 
He enters glad life's stage, and plays 

His part now plucky fill'd. 

viii. 

The virtues and the vices, which 

Make up each act, each scene, 
His heart make eden ; for therein, 

The good, and bad between 
He now discriminates, lo ! wise, 

An Adam ! or his Eve ! 

ix. 

Still morning's rays bring forth glad hopes 
Of coming noon, when gay 



32 A Stricken City 

The world moves, as at flow, and shows 

The zenith of the day, 
Ere which the thoughts of love begin 

To bless life's blooming May. 



The heart divided, lists to two, 

To Venus', Duty's voice; 
And tether' d by the two, between 

Both he now shifts his choice; 
Whilst Venus might Adonis choose, 

And with that lone rejoice. 

xi. 

Love, king of hearts, a despot rules; 

His subjects mortals are; 
Some true, like gamblers, like the trump. 

And find it e'en afar, 
And win, must win; but why? May be 

The idols of some star. 

xii. 

Youth looks on Love with wistful eyes. 
And welcomes life's May-day; 



A Stricken City ^^ 

And May-day folks too pray the sun 

Would loiter on his way ; 
Whilst eve nectareal made, remains 

Sweet savor'd, fresh, and gay. 

xiii. 

The noonday sun now brings new scenes 

To the insatiate mind ; 
And as the sidewalks offer free 

Their bosoms there to find 
Sights novel, he surveys them, till 

His breath does kiss as wind. 

xiv. 

Too hospitable, pleased to see 

Itself a kind support, 
Where two ways cross, there one tall pile 

A subject keeps for sport 
Him, leaning, courting Nature's nurse — 

Twin sister de la Mort. 



XV. 



A member of the fairer sex, 
With eye behind her lens. 



34 A Stricken City 

Pretending that she can supply 
All women's wants and men's, 

Descrying- that he shades her sign, 
Raves at his want of sense. 

xvi. 

Then Clamor's voice dispels the nurse, 
But fort'nate she has wrought 

With soothing touches — Nature's balm — 
A cure on senses fraught 

With crowded scenes and deafening cries, 
Which come e'en though unsought. 

xvii. 

His nerves now husband'd by control 

Of his now w^aken'd will, 
He sets his curious nature free 

His greedy mind to fill, 
Along the ways of men again, 

Till all the world grows still. 

xviii. 

H prince, demeanor princely smiles 
On toil as on they plod. 



A Stricken City 35 

And learns to feel, and do, and think. 

With delvers of the sod; 
But still his manner must betray 

One born to wield the rod. 

xix. 

Next, he who drinks the cup of ease 

And privilege combined. 
Whose ancestor might well have drunk 

Care's cup with hoping mind, 
May now, exempt from the large fold, 

Be too small for the find. 

XX, 

It matters not which ever rank 

Does spend the holiday, 
Free from the schoolroom's discipline; 

There comes the evening's gray. 
When shadows eastern darken first, 

When fades the western ray. 

xxi. I 

The stag no more fears shot and pack ; 
The hills re-echo not; 



36 A Stricken City 

The feather'd nations slumber glad, 

And bless their happy lot, 
Survivors of a day's besiege — 

The hunter's futile plot. 

xxii. 

The garden weeps as evening's gray 

Bathes it with silent tears; 
No longer petted and caress'd, 

Each rosebud sadly stares 
Around upon a plain faced lot, 
j Whose face a green veil wears. 

xxiii. 

Such hobbies and earth's duties leave 

The day's benighted hours 
To grave reflections, or glad thoughts 

Of victory won; then lowers 
The veil, which hides the world from those 

Who now, like fading flowers, 

xxiv. 

Perfume the world with precedence, 
Leave fruits to mark their day; 



A Stricken City 37 



And one by one each wither'd sense 
Falls from each mortal clay, 

Till cold and lifeless here on earth, 
Bereft of life, they lay. 

XXV. 

On these such scenes and passing acts, 
The youth does feed his mind; 

And while his part he plays, he leaves 
Impressions, which must find 

Some retina, some tympanum 
To keep their prints behind. 

xxvi. 

His sun sets too, at roll-call he 
Presents himself, now spent; 

And from his weary toil and care, 
Which long his wanderings lent, 

He now resigns to live again 
On godly purpose bent. 



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SOME OF THE VERY LATEST 
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RSTYRNRX 

An Bpic Romance of llion, 2ltlantis and Rtn&r&CA 
By HOX. JOSEPH M. BROWN 

With 48 Drawings by Hudson 

950 pp. Postpaid $1.70 

THE TW© FRMILIES 

a Novel by 

IREXE GWENDOLIN ZIZIGK 

and 

MRS. TiNNTl B7iRB7iR7l ZIZWK 

$1.50 Postpaid 

THE SINNER'S FRIEND 

a Beautiful Religious Poem 

BY 

e. G. SAMUEL 

3rd Edition $1.00 Illustrated 

aeROSS THE PLaiNS 

HND OYER THE DIVIDE 

RAIVnALJL H. HEWITT 

A Mule Train Journey horn East to West in 1862, and 
Incidents Connected Therewith. 

With About 80 Illustrations $1.50 Postpaid 



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Belasco Theatre, Washing- 
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Grand Opera House, Syra- 
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Baker Theatre, Rochester. 

Opera House, Providence. 

Worcester Theatre, Worces- 
ter. 

Hyperion Theatre, New 
Haven. 

Lyceum Theatre, Buffalo. 

Colonial Theatre, Cleveland, 

Rand's Opera House, Troy. 

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Lyric, Cincinnati. 



Mary Anderson Theatre, 

Louisville. 
New Theatre, Richmond, 

Va. 

New Theatre, Lexington, Ky. 
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New Theatre, Atlanta. 
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New Theatre, Toronto.' 

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Majestic Theatre, San Fran- 
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B. H. Sothern & Julia Mar- 
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Margaret Anglin and Henry 
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Virginia Harned. 

Mary Mannering in ' ' Glori- 
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Thos. W. Ross in ''The 
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Mrs. Fiske in 
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The New 



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Lak.dy Century 

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Stenographers 

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Kew Book by the Author of 

A Girl and the Devil ! 



We beg to announce for autumn a new novel from 
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LOVE IN THE TROPICS 

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BOOKS YOV MUST EEAD 
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GREY DAWN REFLECTIONS 

By VIRGINIA BEALE LECKIE 

This clever Washington girl has come close to 
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A friend lies for— an enemj' about — and a wife with— you. 

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A married woman's troubled look at 3 A. M. is not so much 
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Printed on grey antique paper. Cover in grey? 
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BROADWAY PUBLISHING CO. 
835 BROADWAY, NEW YORK 



J 



nmiis rm f^ust read 

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Ms».rceII© 

A Tale of the Revolution 

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l2mo, cloth. Illustrated. 

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A fascinating story of the Revolutionary period, in 
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Til© B^rtosi Manor , 

A NOVEL 

By Rev. M. V. Brown. 

l2mo. cloth. $1.50. 

A most thoughtful, able and authoritative work in 
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Reuben: His Book 

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^ Scarlet Hepentance 

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A Story of the West and the Far East. 

By Mrs. Ansel Oppe^j^heim. 

4 Illus. $1.50. 

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The Instr\Einent Tuned 

By Rosa B. Hirr. 

Attractive Binding, 75 cents. 

Limited Edition in White and Gold, $£.00, 

(Author's photo) 

An able and interestingwork on a comparatively nevj 
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of common-sense suggestions and is admirably adapted 
to the needs of humanity in general. 

The chapter-captions will give an excellent idea of the 
comprehensive and practical character of the work:. 

Various Therapeutic Agents.^ 

Influence of Mind. 

Extravagant Emotions^; 

Insomnia. 

Relaxation. 

Harmony the Law of Nature^ 



Or der J^oteP 

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A delightful collection of stories and poems. 


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$I.CX). 


Job Trotter 


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50c. 


A unique work, proving that the "earthly paradise" 


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By Henrietta Siegel. 
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Lost in the Mammoth Cave 

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Night 

A Tale of West Indian Insurrection. 

By Ellen Chazal Chapeau. 
Cloth, i2mo. Attractively Produced. 
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The scenes of this st^ry are laid in Ste. 
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J^o Surrender, 

By John N. Swift and William S. Birge, M.D. 

Cloth, i2mo. Frontispiece. Price, $1.50 

From the moment this story opens in the old 
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835 Broadway, New York. 



BOOKS YOU MUST READ 
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S&tai\ of the Modern World 

By E. G. Doyen.. 

?2tno, cloth, handsomely produced. 

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A Missouriark*s Honor 

By W. W. ARNom.. 

Cloth, i2mo. $1.00. 

3 Illustrations.. 



1 



Llewellyn 

A NOVEL 

By Hadley S. Kimberlino; { 1 

Cloth. $1.50. 
5 Illustrations by S. Klarr; 

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BOOKS YOV MUST READ 
SOONER ©^ LATER 



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Cloth, 12mo. Dainty in style, thrilling in contents . $1 00 
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Broadway Publishing: Company^ 

835 Broadway, New York* 



ADIRONDACK^ 
MURRAY 

A Biog'rapKical Appreciation 

By Harry V. Radford 

Editor of "Woods and "Waters 

W. H. H. MURRAY (b. 1840, d. 1904)— equally celebrated 
as preacher, author, lecturer, sportsman and traveler — has be- 
come an immortal figure in American history and letters, taking 

rank, as a writer, with Cooper and Thoreau. Mr. Radford 

himself an author and sportsman of national repute, and ac- 
knowledged the greatest living authority upon Adirondack 
sport and literature— has told the wonderful story of " Adiron- 
dack ' [ T\Iurray from the vantage-point of personal acquaintance, 
and with a characteristic grace and charm of style that insures 
for his book permanent popularity. 



HENRY VAN DYKK 

in a personal letter written to the author from "A/alon, 
Princeton, N. J., says of Mr. Radford's book : 

" Your writing takes me back in imagination to that beautiful country of 
mountains, and rivers, and lakes, wiiere so many of the happiest months of 
my early h'fe were spent, and where 1 learned to' cast the fly and shoot a 
rirle. It is pleasant to feel the sincere and cordial enthusiasm with which 
you write of the fine trails of Mr. Murray's character, and the big out-of- 
door side of his life in which the best of his nature found expression. 
I congratulate j'ou on the success with which you have perforriied your 
task of gratitude and friendship, and hope that your book will find its 
way into the hands of thousands of those who love the woods and the 
waters." 



10 FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS 

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edges. By mail %ijoo 

Blue vellum cloth. By mail 60 

BROADWAY POBLISHiNG COMPANY 

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